


Manticore

by Mice



Series: After the Fall [1]
Category: Dark Angel, Lone Gunmen
Genre: AU, Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-05
Updated: 2011-02-05
Packaged: 2017-10-15 10:40:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/160004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mice/pseuds/Mice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Byers goes to Seattle looking for information on the Manticore Project, and ends up finding much more than he bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Manticore

**Author's Note:**

> Because of the timeline difference between DA and XF, this is an alternate universe story for both shows, after a catastrophe that didn't involve colonization. All you really need to know is that Max, Logan, Byers and the Gunmen are as they appear in their respective shows, and Seattle is the post-apocalyptic martial-law zone we know and love from Dark Angel. Logan is in the in-and-out of the wheelchair stage.

SEATTLE  
MAY 15, 2003

Byers adjusted his tie nervously as he got off the plane, his carry-on bag over his shoulder. He'd given up checking luggage years ago, unable to work up any confidence in airline baggage handlers. The most recent information he'd heard was that Seattle was still more of a mess than DC had ever been, making him even more leery of checking anything than usual, if such a thing were possible. Getting here had been difficult, but between the Gunmen's respective talents, they'd managed to procure one pass into the area. John was uneasy traveling alone, feeling that it left him too vulnerable. Over the years, he'd avoided assassination attempts, outwitted would-be kidnappers, and defused any number of possible blackmail situations with the help of his friends. They were a team, and he knew that they functioned best as a unit. Communication with the other Gunmen would be difficult while he was out here, and he hated it; hated the separation, hated the fear, hated the vulnerability of no one to watch his back.

He reflected on his mission, going over the details in his mind for what must have been the twentieth time since he'd boarded the plane. It had started less than a month ago, when he'd managed to hack his way into a heavily guarded, secret site that had turned out to be a database on a project called Manticore, compiled by a fellow-traveler and guerilla journalist in the Seattle area, known as Eyes Only. In the intervening weeks, John and his friends had spent every waking hour hunting down all the information they could uncover about the mysterious genetic engineering project. It apparently involved a covert attempt by the US military to develop the perfect soldier. Mulder insisted that it involved alien DNA, but John wasn't so sure. He knew all too well what human beings were capable of without any outside assistance.

The rumors were that a secret government camp had been set up years ago outside Gilette, Wyoming, where vat-born children had been raised like lab rats, and trained to become emotionless killing machines. At some point, however, the project had imploded on itself, and a number of these young "experiments" had escaped from the Manticore base. Several had allegedly been sighted in the Seattle area recently, and over the Canadian border into British Columbia, but no one seemed to have any hard information -- except the mysterious figure known as Eyes Only. Most of the others who had looked into the project had vanished, or turned up dead. This fact had not made any of the Gunmen feel better about their investigation, or John traveling alone.

Byers had drawn the short straw for the trip. None of them had wanted to travel by themselves. In fact, none of them had done so in nearly five years. Since the collapse, they were slightly more anonymous than they had been before, but life in general had become considerably riskier. In addition to the dangers of traveling into a martial law zone, there were risks associated with looking either too poor or too wealthy. Too much of one or the other could easily get you killed for any of a variety of reasons, or for none at all. He hoped he had achieved a comfortable balance with his usual inexpensive suit and tie, blending in as just one more low-end corporate drone of the many. Now that he was on the ground, it was time to report in to his partners.

"Lone Gunmen, Frohike," the familiar voice barked.

"It's me. I'm on the ground." Byers could hear Frohike reporting his arrival to Langly. There was a click on the line as Langly joined the call.

"You doin' okay, Byers?" Langly asked.

"About as well as can be expected," John said quietly, watching his surroundings as casually as possible. "I wish one of you was here with me."

"You know we couldn't get another pass, man," Frohike said. "We'd all rather that somebody was out there with you. Life's too damn dangerous these days. Sometimes I wish we could go back to when all we had to worry about was Mulder and his little gray men."

Langly chuckled. "Right, Frohike. Green acid bleedin' mighty morphin' shape shifters with ice picks. Oh yeah, gimme more of that."

"I'm headed for the hotel," Byers said, "I'll call you guys tonight and give you a progress report."

Frohike snorted. "You be sure to do that, Byers. Be careful. I don't want you out of touch for more than eight hours at a time."

"Yeah, it's too damn dangerous out there," Langly added.

"He already knows that, you doof," Frohike sniped.

"Just watch your back, Johnny," Langly said.

'At least I know they're concerned,' John thought. "Thanks guys. I'll call tonight." 'Not that it makes me feel that much better. If I get in trouble, it's not like there's anything they can do from DC.' He hung up, shaking his head, and headed for the bus zone.

***

Locating Eyes Only's broadcast site was unlikely, but John intended to try anyway. He'd already spent the day on the streets, keeping his ear to the ground. Kerry, his one trustworthy contact in Seattle, was extremely reluctant to discuss anything related to Manticore. The mere word made her skittish, and she kept watching the sky for roving security cameras. "The info's too damn hot," was her opinion, "and besides, that's Eyes Only's territory. We're talking total jackboot presence whenever anyone breathes about that project. You don't want to be asking about it, believe me. Next thing you know, you're gonna be locked in a cell up in Everett, with some military shrink pumping your ass full of mind control drugs. You won't even know who you are anymore, John. They'll be scooping your brain out with a spoon."

Discouraged and disconcerted but by no means defeated, he had called to report in to Langly and Frohike about an hour ago, and was now busy online, trying to repeat his previous hacks into Eyes Only's database through the local lines in hope of getting a little closer than he could back home.

***

Logan and Max had just finished a quiet dinner when the Eyes Only computer net's security alarm went off. "Damn," Logan muttered. "Somebody's trying to get in again." They hurried into Logan's office area and consulted the monitors.

"Local this time," Max observed.

"Third time this month," Logan replied, "but the other two were east coast hackers." He shook his head and turned his attention to an intensive trace and live countermeasures. Five minutes of cat and mouse later, he looked up at his friend. "Whoever it is, he's good. I can't pinpoint him, but he's definitely somewhere here in town."

"What's this one after?" Max asked suspiciously.

"Manticore, just like the other two," Logan said nervously. "I don't like this. He's gotten too close to the database. I'm not sure I can keep him out without going offline entirely."

"Do you think it might be the same person?" Max asked. Logan looked up into her dark eyes.

"It's a distinct possibility. The style seems similar." He returned his attention to the keyboard. "One of Lydecker's goons?"

Max shook her head. "I doubt it. Sandoval handles most of that, and we know he's never gotten anywhere near this close. Besides, he's not exactly subtle."

Logan spoke again, excited. "Wait a minute, I think I'm getting a fix on him here."

***

Byers shut down his laptop quickly. Someone in the system had gotten too close, and while he didn't think he'd been compromised, his heart was pounding and he'd broken a sweat. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to sleep, but a shower might ease his stress enough to rest. Tomorrow, it was back to the streets. There had to be some way to meet with Eyes Only. Surely the underground journalist had his share of contacts, just as John and his partners did. His information had to come from somewhere. 'But how do I go about getting him to meet me?' John thought, relaxing slightly as the hot water beat his shoulders. 'Maybe the guys will have some ideas in the morning.' Some time later, warmer and a bit calmer, Byers settled himself into the uncomfortable hotel bed for the night.

MAY 16, 2003

John hadn't been out of the hotel for more than two hours when it happened. His peripheral vision told him it was coming, but his reactions simply weren't fast enough. He was unconscious before he hit the ground.

***

Logan surveyed the unconscious man bound hand and foot on the floor in front of him. Medium tall, slender, with dark hair and a neatly clipped graying beard, he was rather handsome, but nondescript. Most people would probably overlook him in a crowd. 'It's probably how he's survived so long,' Logan thought. He reached down from his chair and brushed the man's hair back from his face, revealing a bruise on his temple. "Do you know who this is, Max?" he asked.

"Should I?" she asked him in return. "There's no way this guy's military. I doubt he's with any of the intelligence agencies. Seems like a nosy civilian to me."

Logan smiled. "He is. Professionally, as a matter of fact." He looked up at Max. "His name's John Fitzgerald Byers. Publishes a legendary conspiracy zine called _The Lone Gunman_ with a couple of his friends. They've been at it since '89. I'm not surprised I couldn't get him while he was in the system. They're sort of... inspirations to me, if you will. These guys will report on anything, no matter how strange it looks on the surface. Mind control drugs, government sponsored terrorism, psychiatric experimentation, illegal whaling, Teletubbies..." Max looked at him, puzzled. "Tele... never mind. For years they were into following this FBI agent and his investigations into Project Purity. They had so much of it right. I hear it nearly got them killed a few times." His face turned serious. "You didn't hurt him, did you?"

Max shook her head. "Nah. He'll have a couple of bruises, but he never had a chance to put up a fight. I don't think he could have if he wanted to. I didn't see a need to do any permanent damage."

"Let's at least get him up off the floor. I'd rather he be comfortable. I'm sure we'll have quite a bit to discuss when he comes around." Logan stood carefully, picking up his cane, and walked to the nearby desk. He pulled a pen light from the drawer.

"I'll do it," Max said, picking up Byers' limp frame and depositing him more or less gently into a chair.

Logan opened Byers' eyes one at a time, shining the light into them. "Pupil response is fine..." Byers moaned quietly and blinked. "Ah, Mr. Byers, so glad you could join us. I've been an admirer of your work for quite some time." He sat back into his wheelchair again.

Byers did a quick survey of his immediate surroundings. Some kind of warehouse space, he thought, and the man before him was a well dressed and very good looking dark blond, with light eyes and small oval glasses, sporting a considerably more attractive version of Frohike's permanent state of semi-shaved whiskers. "Eyes Only, unless I miss my guess." Logan nodded. John tried to move and found that his hands and feet were bound. "You know, I would have been perfectly happy to just buy you lunch," John said. Max snorted. Byers gingerly turned toward her, trying to avoid making his headache worse. He wasn't sure yet if he was in any immediate danger. No weapons were in evidence, but that rarely signified anything of importance. "And you are?"

She looked at him suspiciously, then to Logan. Logan nodded. "Name's Max," she said.

"I don't suppose you'd consider untying me?" Byers asked, knowing the answer.

"Once we know why you're here, we'll think about it," Max said.

"I suspect you already know why I'm here," Byers said.

"I want to hear it from you," Max replied. She was tense, John noted.

"Manticore." Logan and Max looked at each other in silent agreement. At least he wasn't attempting to lie to them.

"What about it?" Logan asked.

Byers looked both of them in the eye, trying to gauge their response. "We're trying to expose the men behind it."

Max laughed, dry and humorless. "They'll kill you. You're lucky we got you before they did."

John sighed and nodded. "Don't think people haven't tried before. My friends and I are used to it now."

"I wouldn't be so cavalier about it," Logan said, a grim expression on his face.

"Believe me, I'm anything but cavalier," John said, his voice steadier than he felt. He'd gotten better at covering his fear over the years. "It scares the crap out of me."

"Why are you interested in exposing Manticore?" Max asked.

Byers thought carefully before answering. So far, there had been no threats, no sign that his life was in danger. Eyes Only's reputation was a good one, and John believed firmly that they were, in fact, on the same side in the struggle against the evils of the system. His two captors obviously knew a great deal about the project, and they might be more sympathetic if they knew why he and his friends were pursuing the information. "We have a... colleague who has a certain personal interest."

Max unwound with the grace of a leopard, grabbing Byers' shoulder. "What kind of personal interest?" she asked tightly.

John tried to back away from her. "Whoa, whoa! I'm not a threat here!"

"Easy Max. Let's see what he has to say."

John swallowed, trying to control his sharply rising anxiety. It wasn't helping the throbbing in his head, and he wished his hands were free so that he could rub his temples to try to relieve some of the pain. "Look, I don't... I'm not sure how much I can say about this. I don't want to endanger my colleague, and I really don't want to get myself hurt, either."

Logan nodded. "Understandable. Max, I think we can untie him."

Max shook her head. "Not until I know what he's talking about."

"He's not a threat. You said so yourself."

She eyed Byers with an expression that suggested a cockroach might be a more pleasant subject. "Maybe not physically, but whatever he knows could be deadly."

John spoke quietly, trying to keep the quaver out of his voice. "Please, I just want to expose the people responsible for this atrocity. I want them brought to justice, so that the victims of their experimentation can try to live normal lives."

"You know one of the Manticores?" Max asked, although it didn't sound much like a question.

Byers nodded. She untied him.

***

John was impressed with Logan Cale's penthouse apartment. It was the kind of place he might live in himself -- spare, elegant, tasteful -- if he hadn't fallen into underground journalism and ended up living with Langly and Frohike. If he had any money. If he'd had anything like a normal life. Pretty much everything the Gunmen made went into their investigations and their printing. Even with Jimmy's help, the finances were not always in great shape. Nothing in this place looked cheap or shoddy, a stark contrast to his own life. 'He must have a hell of a lot of money from somewhere,' John thought. The Tylenol he'd taken before they left the warehouse was starting to help, and his headache was slowly fading.

"So," Max said, "who's this colleague of yours?"

"None of us knows her real name," Byers said. "She goes by Yves Adele Harlow, an anagram for Lee Harvey Oswald."

Max and Logan passed a look between them. "And she has the bar code?" Logan asked.

John nodded. "I saw it once, just a glimpse. She keeps it covered."

"Petra," Max said. "She was always fascinated by conspiracies. It makes sense. I have some things to check out." By the time Byers turned to face her, she was gone.

"She's one of them, isn't she?" he asked.

Logan nodded. "She's trying to find them. They're the only family she has."

"Do you mind if I check in with the guys?" John asked. "They get very worried if I don't contact them regularly."

"I can understand why," Logan said with a smile. "I don't think I'd want to lose track of you either. Use the phone in my office if you like. It's secure." He watched appreciatively as John walked away. Yes, John Byers was a very attractive man. 'Probably has a girlfriend,' Logan thought. 'They always do.'

***

"Lone Gunmen, we deliver," Langly said brightly.

"I'm checking in," Byers said.

"Lemme get Mel," Langly said. "You finding anything?"

Byers laughed. "You might say that." Langly shouted for Frohike and the diminutive Gunman joined the conversation.

"Hey Byers, wassup?"

"I've made contact." John said.

"That was quick," Langly said.

"You okay, man?" Mel's voice was washed with the sound of tense suspicion, and John knew his friend was listening carefully for any indication that he might be in trouble but unable to reveal the fact directly. Old habits could be so comforting sometimes. He was glad that his partners were alert to the possible dangers.

"I wasn't sure at first, but yes, I'm fine. I'm safe, and in contact with the right people. Of course, were I in contact with the wrong people, we wouldn't be having this conversation," John observed wryly. Langly snorted.

Frohike grumbled. "Right, Byers. Anything new?"

"Not that I can discuss over the phone. I'll send you a report tonight, when I have some time. Right now, I've got a lot of work to do. Wish me luck. I could be sitting on the big one here."

"You're always sitting on a big one, John," Langly teased.

"Ringo! God, you're rude."

"Size queen," Langly muttered.

"Screw you, Langly," Frohike said. Byers laughed.

"Listen to you, Ringo," John said, "the guy who's always trying to sit on the biggest hard drive in existence."

"Whoa, dude, below the belt!" Langly said.

"Well, just remember who started it," John replied. "Size queen, my ass."

"Good luck, Johnny," Frohike said. "Be careful out there."

"Yeah, take care of yourself, man. Come home in one piece."

John smiled to himself. "I'll do my best, guys. Thanks. You take care too. Don't let Jimmy knock the place over while I'm away."

***

SEATTLE  
MAY 16, 2003

Logan and John talked for several hours, covering much of the history of the Manticore Project, until Byers interrupted the conversation. "Logan, if you don't mind, I could really use something to eat. Your friend Max... well, she ah, picked me up before I had breakfast."

Logan looked up at his guest. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude. What do you like?"

"Anything, really," John said. "I'm omnivorous." Logan smiled.

"I think I can handle that," he said, and led the way toward the kitchen. He began rummaging through the refrigerator, bringing out a stack of sandwich makings. "What would you like on your sandwich?"

John ran his fingers over his beard, then tapped his lips gently with one long forefinger. "Surprise me," he said.

"I like that in a guy," Logan said. 'I bet I could surprise you in more ways than one,' he thought. "So tell me about yourself, John," Logan said as he worked. "I've always wanted to know how you guys have been keeping _The Lone Gunman_ in print all these years, considering some of the stories you've broken."

Byers shook his head. "Some days I have no idea how we've even survived, much less managed to keep publishing. We've been lucky, I guess."

"Luck is useful, but it won't keep you alive for thirteen or fourteen years in this business. There's a lot of skill and talent in doing what you do." Logan paused, putting the finishing touches on John's sandwich. "Beer? I've got some nice local microbrews in the fridge."

"Uh, sure," Byers said. He looked around the shelf and chose one he'd never heard of before. "This any good?" he asked, showing it to Logan.

"One of the better ones," the younger man replied. Byers nodded, opened the beer, and sat down in front of his sandwich. "So what's the big secret to longevity as an underground journalist?"

John thought for a few minutes as he sipped his beer and ate the sandwich. "A woman I loved once told me 'no matter how paranoid you are, you're not paranoid enough.' I've found it to be extremely useful advice over the years."

"And yet you're out here alone," Logan observed.

John shook his head. "Not by choice." He ate a bite of the sandwich, then continued. "Even we couldn't pull off a big enough miracle to get two of us out here. Travel's so much more difficult since the collapse. Much more expensive, more dangerous. Getting the right papers is more than just a question of forgery and an insertion into a database." Logan nodded. He'd had similar difficulties himself over the years. "I don't like it though, traveling alone. The guys and I have been watching out for each other for so many years that I'm used to having extra eyes and ears with me. It's... unnerving, actually, being alone like this."

Logan was silent for a moment as he finished making his own sandwich, seeing an opportunity to spend more time with the man. "If it would help, you can stay here while you're in town. It would save you some money, and you'd be considerably safer here than in some cheap hotel."

John looked over at Logan, uncertain at first, but then he smiled. "It's very kind of you. Are you sure?"

Logan nodded. "I wouldn't offer if I didn't mean it."

Byers sighed, relief lightening his eyes. "Thank you. I think I'll do that."

"I can send someone to your hotel for your bags," Logan offered.

"It's just one small carry-on," Byers said.

"That much easier," Logan replied. He raised his voice. "Bling?" A handsome, substantial black man entered the room. Byers looked him up and down carefully. Obviously, part of his duties included bodyguard. Byers wished idly that he had someone who looked like that guarding his body. He'd feel a whole lot safer in the street were that the case -- and probably everywhere else as well.

"Yes?"

"Would you arrange to have Mr. Byers' belongings brought here from his hotel? He'll be here with us until he leaves Seattle."

"Sure, Logan." Bling nodded and looked over at Byers. "May I have your keys?" He extended one huge hand. Byers reached into his suit pocket and produced the key, placing it in the outstretched palm. "Thanks." Bling left the room silently.

John watched him go, then finished his sandwich and wiped his hands and mouth with his napkin. "Good sandwich."

Logan looked back at John. "Thanks. So how's your head doing?" He reached out and touched John's temple where Max had hit him. John relaxed slightly and leaned into the warm touch.

"Could be better. The Tylenol helped a little, though." He sat there, eyes closed, as Logan's fingers smoothed his hair. The friendly hand was more than welcome, and it was an opportunity to determine Logan's receptivity on other levels, as well.

"If it's all right, I could do a little something for that," Logan said. John mmhmm'd happily, and Logan wheeled in close behind his guest. "Just lean back against me," he said, using both hands to slowly and carefully massage John's forehead and temples.

"Mmm," John mumbled, leaning into Logan's chest. "That helps." He sighed as he carefully let go of the tightness in his muscles. "You could do that for hours, if you want to," John whispered.

Logan's fingers moved slowly through John's hair, releasing the tension the man had been holding since he'd left the safety of his own home. Gently, he worked his way down behind John's ears, and then down the edge of his beard as it followed his jaw line. Byers mumbled comfortably again, shifting his weight slightly and turning his head. Logan ran the heels of his palms down the tight muscles in the back of John's neck, and down onto his shoulders. "Is this helping?" he asked.

"Definitely." John was nearly purring from the relief of the other man's touch.

"You might find this a little more comfortable on the couch," Logan offered.

Byers considered it while the man's fingers continued turning the knots in his neck and shoulders into butter. 'This could get much more interesting as the evening passes,' he thought. 'I rather like that idea.' "Sure," he said quietly, "as long as you don't mind."

"Not at all," Logan said. The two moved into the living room, and Logan motioned John to lie down on his stomach on the large, cozy couch. It was much more comfortable than any couch Byers had been on in years. There didn't appear to be five years worth of crumbs stuck between the cushions, either. And it smelled like leather, not unwashed laundry. He lost himself in the pleasure of the comfortable couch and Logan's warm, strong hands working their way down his shoulders and spine. "This might be a little more comfortable for you if you, ah, took your shirt off," Logan suggested.

"Mmmmm," John mumbled. "In a minute. This feels too good. I don't want you to stop."

"Well," Logan said, "with that attitude, you'll never take the shirt off, and I won't be able to work on you nearly as well as I'm capable of. And besides, without the shirt, I can use some massage oil on you."

Byers sighed. "You're a very persuasive man, Logan. Very logical. But it still means I have to move." Logan chuckled and leaned back, allowing Byers to sit so that he could get to the buttons on his shirt.

"Would you like my help with that, or should I go find the massage oil?"

John smiled shyly. "How does both sound?" Logan's eyes met John's, blue locked on blue as his hands moved to loosen the buttons on John's shirt. He took advantage of the movement to run his palms up John's chest, and Byers breathed deeply, leaning into the back of the couch as Logan caressed him. "So nice," John whispered, letting his breath out in a long sigh. He closed his eyes to concentrate on the pleasure of the physical sensations.

It had been a long time since anyone had touched him in more than a perfunctory, casual way. Neither Langly nor Frohike were interested in him, and while Jimmy might have been willing to do anything he asked, John couldn't really see himself in that kind of a relationship. There hadn't been a woman in his life since Susanne, and the dangers of casual encounters with strangers left him too uneasy to open himself to them. Logan though, Logan was a fellow-traveler, a comrade in arms. He was someone who understood the risks, who could be cautious and discreet, and, by the evidence of the hands moving over his chest, a man who could be very gentle. What John needed more than anything else right then was gentle. Max had left more than a few bruises, though fortunately none would last long. It was simply that John ached everywhere.

Logan watched as John melted under his touch. The man had obviously been craving this for a long time. "Do you have anyone at home?" Logan asked gently, carefully loosening John's tie and removing it. Byers shook his head slowly, as if even the slightest movement would disturb his peace.

"No," he replied softly. "Not in a very long time." Logan moved to join John on the couch, sliding closer to him. "Please don't stop," John said. Logan studied Byers as he slowly unbuttoned the man's shirt, pausing between each button to run his hands over John's chest and shoulders. If he was nearly 40, the years had been kind to him, the only real sign of age the slight graying in his beard and a few wrinkles around the eyes. John didn't look anywhere near 40; he did, however, look very tired.

"You're a few hours out of your time zone, John. Do you want to catch some sleep?"

Byers opened his eyes and looked at Logan. "No," he said quietly. "I'd really like it if you'd keep doing what you're doing. It feels good. Please." Logan turned his attention back to his slow process of caress, unbutton, caress, and John sighed, content. Eventually, the last button was loosened, the tail of John's shirt pulled from his pants, and Logan's hands were moving slowly over John's abdomen.

Logan reached under John's shirt and up his back, pulling his hands down in a long, slow stroke along the spine from shoulders to hips that drew a quiet moan from his guest. "What do you say I find that massage oil?" he asked. Byers nodded, then leaned forward a little and pulled his shirt the rest of the way off. Too tempted, Logan leaned in and kissed John softly behind the ear, caressing the tender skin with lips, then tongue.

Byers drew a sharp breath, then lifted his hand and ran it slowly through Logan's short hair. "Hurry back," he whispered. John's breath in Logan's ear triggered a delighted shudder.

"Believe me, I will." Logan ran one hand down John's chest, not stopping at the waist. He let his fingers slowly caress John's hip and leg as he moved away. Byers watched as Logan left the room.

'God,' he thought, 'this is perfect. I need this so much.' He rubbed his face with both hands, passing them through his hair as he sighed. 'I can't believe I'm sitting here half naked on this man's couch. Hell, I can't believe I'm doing this at all. Logan's gorgeous. He's young, and he may spend a lot of time in that wheelchair, but he's got strong arms and a sharp mind. What on earth could he want with me? I've got to be nearly ten years older than he is.' Logan reappeared, bearing a large towel and a bottle of massage oil. Byers decided that it didn't really matter what he thought, it was what Logan did that mattered in the end result. If Logan was enjoying giving him a massage, he was certainly not going to object.

"Here," Logan said, laying out the towel on the couch. "Go ahead and lie on this. I'll take care of everything else." He smiled at John, and Byers shifted.

"Do you want to do my back first, or my chest?" John asked.

"Whatever you'd prefer," Logan replied. John lay down on his stomach. He had hopes for later, imagining the two of them together, lying next to each other in the night, limbs intertwined. Logan began to work the massage oil into John's back and shoulders, carefully giving attention to all John's various knots and sore spots. There were certainly a lot of them. After a few minutes, Logan removed his own shirt, to avoid oil stains on the cloth. Leaning down over John's body, he used hands, arms and his own chest to caress the man beneath him. As Byers moaned quietly with the pleasure of the intense physical contact, Logan began nibbling at the base of John's neck.

"Oh, God, that's so good," Byers whispered, his eyes closed, every nerve on fire. Curiosity overcame him in the midst of his pleasure, though. "But why, Logan? Why are you doing this for me?"

Logan rolled onto his side next to John. He urged the other man to roll and face him, and Byers moved slowly to comply. Cradling John's face in one hand, he kissed him gently, lips exploring lips, tips of tongues touching ever so softly. Unable to resist any longer, Byers wrapped Logan in his arms and pulled the man tightly to him, responding eagerly to the kiss. Their bodies pressed together in unfamiliar but welcome and very comforting warmth. As they moved to catch their breath, Logan looked into John's eyes. "Do you really want to know?"

"Yes," John said, tracing Logan's cheekbone with his thumb.

Logan closed his eyes. "I..." He took a deep breath. "This is going to sound so stupid..." Byers continued the slow motion of his thumb across Logan's lips and down his chin, then joined it with his other fingers as he moved his hand in a feather-light touch down the man's neck. Logan groaned as John's fingers brushed his throat. "You have such gentle hands," Logan whispered.

"Whatever it is, it's fine. Just talk to me."

Logan nodded and started again. "You... you and your friends have been an inspiration to me for years. I've admired your work for a long time. You've always seemed like... a man of integrity, someone who genuinely cared about people when you wrote. I followed your work, watched the conspiracies you watched." He paused, slightly embarrassed, but John leaned into him and licked the rim of his ear with the tip of his tongue. "God, you're great," Logan said, with a quiet laugh. "When I first saw a photo of you, about five years ago, I thought you were a handsome man, and though I never expected I'd meet you, I always wondered what might happen if I did, and then, here you are trying to crack my system, and you end up here on my couch... I..." Logan paused, looking at John. "God that sounds weird. I just... here you are, and you're so beautiful and warm and... I'm so embarrassed." He laughed nervously. "I feel like a kid on my first date. If... if you don't want me to do this... if you think it's too weird or kinky or something..."

John colored in a blush over most of his exposed skin, and tried to divert attention from his own embarrassment by pulling Logan back in to kiss him again. The idea that someone admired him for what he did, for who he was, seemed alien -- his work had only ever put him in harm's way before -- but at the same time he found it oddly comforting. Jimmy's admiration was puppyish, obvious and rather sweet but often annoying, while Logan's expression of his own form of admiration was couched in a much more complex syntax of understanding and desire that touched him deeply.

"Don't stop, Logan. I want this so much. I need this. I need to feel that... that someone cares about me, that someone wants me." He kissed Logan's shoulder, running his lips and tongue along the thin, sensitive skin of his clavicle, ending with a slow, very sensual nip and suck at the hollow of his throat, and Logan gasped. "My friends, they care about me. They actually do love me, in their own ways. But I don't have anyone that will touch me like this, no one to hold at night. Everyone needs that, Logan, but it's too hard to trust people anymore. You... you know what it's like to live like I do, to have to look over your shoulder all the time. You live the same kind of life I do. It's so rare to find anyone who genuinely understands. Even more so to find someone who knows and..." John paused before his voice betrayed the depth of his emotion, "and still wants to be with me. Don't be afraid of this, Logan. Let it happen. I want you."

Logan took John in his arms and rolled until the other man was on top of him on the couch. They kissed and caressed each other, licking and nibbling along each other's ribs, sucking shoulders, elbows, nipples, fingers. Logan opened his legs and John slipped his hips between them, moving carefully and slowly, both still half-dressed, neither caring, only reveling in the glorious sensation of their gentle, slow movement, the warmth and softness of skin, and the heat of each other's breath. Byers slowed his already gentle pace as dusk approached. He had no idea how long they'd been engaged in this sensual dance, but his body was beginning to realize it was tired. Even the pleasure of Logan's hands and mouth, the warmth of his arms, was unable to keep him moving more than a little. "God, Logan, I'm so sorry. I'm so exhausted..."

"I know," Logan said with a smile. "You have been for quite a while. I knew that eventually you'd need some rest, but I didn't want to stop you while you still felt up to this." Logan sat up, and John leaned on an elbow, one hand on Logan's thigh. "Why don't you go to bed, John. I'll join you a little later tonight." Byers looked up at the clock on the wall. It read shortly after 8:30 pm, but he knew that his own body's clock was insisting that it was past 11:30, and that he needed sleep after his tense, restless night in the hotel's uncomfortable bed. At least here, he would be able to rest comfortably, and, apparently, with a partner for the night. He couldn't think of anything he'd rather have.

"I think I'll do that," John said, nodding as he sat.

"Let me show you to my room," Logan said, and stood, offering John his hand. Byers stood and took the offered hand.

"Can I ask you a question?" John asked.

Logan looked back at the man he was leading across the floor. "Of course."

Byers motioned to the wheelchair, abandoned in the living room. "You use the chair, and yet you're also up and walking, sometimes with that cane, sometimes without it. What... what's causing that?" Logan led Byers into his bedroom, and together they turned back the covers. John started to remove his pants, and Logan took his hands, stopping him, then unbuckled his belt and unfastened John's pants himself, his arms wrapped around the man from behind. John sighed and leaned into him as Logan's hands gently explored his newly naked body. He toed his shoes off and sat down on the bed, removing his socks.

Logan ran a slow, gentle hand along the inside of John's thigh, then looked at him. "I was... I got shot a while ago. It did some very severe damage to my spinal column. For a while I was entirely paralyzed from the waist down. Max... at one point, I was very ill, and she gave me a transfusion of some of her blood. After that, I slowly began to recover, but the effect has been erratic and unpredictable. Sometimes the paralysis returns. Sometimes I'm able to move around normally. Other times I need the cane to lean on. I don't know how long it will last, or if I'll be back in the chair permanently again sometime soon, but I'm determined to make the most of it while I'm still able to walk, in whatever capacity."

"Do you..." John stopped, not sure whether to continue.

"It's all right. You can ask anything you like." Logan caressed John's cheek and kissed him softly.

"When it's like this, can you... can you feel anything?" John ran a hand along Logan's hip. "Can you feel me touch you?"

Logan laughed. "Oh yes. Believe me, right now I can feel everything. Even in the worst of the paralysis, the numbness affects mostly my legs. I can feel everything you can, John. I feel the same pleasure that you do, the same intensity. I'm quite capable of having an erection and an orgasm, I assure you." Byers blushed.

"I'm sorry, I just never... I never..."

"It's all right. I worried about that a lot when I was in the hospital." Logan brushed John's bangs back from his forehead, where they'd fallen during their earlier play. "Most people have no idea, and the chair scares a lot of people away. They think that I wouldn't, or couldn't, feel anything and so they pretend that if they don't say anything, I won't notice what they believe I've lost. I appreciate that you care enough to ask me about it." Logan leaned over and kissed John. "Now get some sleep. I'm hoping that you'll be rested enough for a little... diversion by the time I'm ready for bed."

Byers grinned up at Logan, then took him by the hips and poked his tongue in Logan's navel. They both laughed, and snuggled for a few minutes, then John lay down to rest.

***

SEATTLE  
MAY 16, 2003

"I'm back, Logan," Bling called, not wanting to walk in on a... sensitive situation.

"Come on in," Logan replied quietly.

"Where should I put Mr. Byers' bag, the guest room or yours?" He saw the discarded towel, the suit jacket, shirts, and tie on the couch, and made his own guess. 'Gonna have to pick up the room tonight before I crash,' he thought.

Logan smiled softly. "Mine, please. He's asleep, though. Don't disturb him."

Bling returned the smile. "Wouldn't dream of it." He moved silently through the apartment and quietly set the carry-on bag on a chair next to Logan's bed on the side where Byers was sleeping. For a moment, he stood and listened to Byers' quiet breathing, observing the slender man carefully. He looked innocent and peaceful, lying there asleep, arm curled around a pillow, his hair in disarray. 'At least Logan has good taste,' he thought. 'One less problem to deal with.' He returned to the office, where Logan sat, working on a file.

"So what do you think?" Logan asked.

"From what I heard while you two were talking, he seems like a decent guy." Bling looked over Logan's shoulder as he typed. "Smart, articulate, seems like he cares a lot about stuff. Nice looking guy. He'd probably be pretty good for you." He laid one heavy hand on Logan's shoulder. "I don't want to see you getting hurt though, man. He tries anything to hurt you..."

Logan chuckled and looked up. "I don't think that'll be necessary. I assure you, any shouts you might hear tonight will be strictly from pleasure." The two men laughed as Bling leaned back against the desk and crossed his arms.

Max entered through the office window. "Did I miss anything interesting?"

Logan looked at her. "Depends on how you define 'interesting'."

Max raised an eyebrow. "I thought you seemed awfully interested in him."

"Well, you have to admit, he's very easy on the eyes." Logan turned back to the computer screen. Max shook her head.

"I've been out on the streets risking my butt, and you've been playing slap and tickle with a guy who's been hacking into your system?" She looked down at him disapprovingly.

Logan looked back up at her. "You know he's no threat, Max; not to me -- or to you." He reached up and took her hand, kissing the back of it gently. "He'll be here with me until he leaves Seattle, but I doubt I'll be able to see him very often after that. You know how hard it is to travel," he said wistfully.

"But you want to, don't you," Max said.

Logan sighed and nodded. "Yeah, I do."

"What about him?" Bling asked.

Logan stared back at the screen for a moment before answering quietly. "I think... I hope he will too."

"You never know," Bling said, rising to leave the room. "Ask him."

"I'll do that," Logan whispered. He turned his attention back to Max. "So tell me about your evening."

Max settled in to lean against the desk next to Logan, and traced a hand carefully along his shoulder. "He can't expose Lydecker and the Manticore Project."

"Why not?" Logan asked, surprised.

"We've decided that while it's a great idea in theory, in practice it'll just call more attention to us. Everyone will know we exist, and it won't just be Lydecker and the foreign governments chasing us anymore. Who knows how many corporate bastards will be wanting to turn us into lab rats and reproduce us as a profit-making venture; corp security, private armies, lobotomized slave labor. And if you think the civilian populace is going to silently accept that a bunch of mutants like us are out there -- stronger, smarter, and faster than they are -- you're kidding yourself. Might as well paint targets on our backs to match the bar codes. Your squeeze is an idealist, Logan. I think his heart's in the right place, but I doubt that he understands the real consequences of revealing the details of Manticore to the public." She looked down at the floor. "It wouldn't protect us, or bring Lydecker and his cronies to justice. It would just bring us more trouble. We can't have that happen. But we need to find Petra, even if it's just to talk to her, see how she's been doing."

Logan let out a deep breath, only then realizing that he'd been holding it uneasily. "He's going to be disappointed."

"Better disappointed than dead," Max said pointedly. "You don't honestly think the military would let him or his friends live long enough to enjoy their success. Lydecker'd have your boy's ass in a body bag before he got to SeaTac. I'm surprised he hasn't had the goon squad looking for him already. Byers was careful about his inquiries, but when you start talking about the project, nothing's really careful enough."

"You know, he said something to that effect earlier." Logan looked toward his bedroom, thinking about the man asleep in his bed. "I think that John's philosophy for years has been that publicity and revelation are their own form of safety. You can't blackmail a person with something that everyone already knows. Sometimes, though, it doesn't work." He looked back at Max. "I don't want to see John get hurt, and you know there's no way I want to put you at any further risk. We're going to have to talk to him in the morning."

Max smiled wryly. "You know I gotta work. Normal gets all bent when I get in late."

"The guy's just plain bent to begin with. So come by on your lunch break instead," he offered. "I'll make something for all of us."

Max thought about it, a broad grin on her face. "Original Cindy may have something to say about me breaking our date." She laughed.

"You're always breaking your lunch dates with her," Logan observed.

Max snorted. "Sorta the point, don't you think? Yeah, we do need to talk to him, but I think you can handle him all by yourself. You're a big boy, and he's pretty. Just page me if you need me."

Logan laughed. "You just want to watch."

"Maybe I do." She smiled and winked at him. "Dinner?"

"Delightful," Logan replied.

***

Logan slipped quietly into his bedroom, unwilling to startle the man occupying his bed. The clothes from the living room, and the pants and other clothing John had shed before getting into bed were gone. They'd be clean in the morning, he knew. He stripped off his pants, and dropped the robe he'd been wearing after he'd taken his shirt off earlier. The quiet trill of a mobile phone startled him, but he located it on top of his dresser and picked it up. "Yes?" he said quietly.

There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment, then a sharp, nasal voice snapped "Who are you?"

"That depends. Who wants to know?"

The nasal voice was loud and angry. "Who the hell are you, and what have you done with Byers?" He heard another voice in the background, deeper and rougher. He decided that these must be Langly and Frohike, John's partners.

"Where's Byers, punk-ass?" the deeper voice snarled. "If he's hurt, you die."

Well, everything he knew about these men suggested that they were intensely loyal to one another. He was fairly certain that the men would find a way to carry out that threat if anyone had actually harmed their partner. "John's fine, guys. He's asleep."

"Yeah, right. And I'm the Queen of Egypt," the nasal voice said, thick with sarcasm.

"If he's fine, then put him on the phone," the deeper voice demanded.

Logan shook his head. He knew there would be no settling this without John talking to his friends. "Just a sec. Let me wake him up." He set the phone down again and sat down on the bed. "John," he said quietly, carefully running a hand through the man's hair, "wake up. You have a phone call."

Byers groaned, then turned his face into Logan's hand and nuzzled at it. "Ca' back later..." he muttered.

"I don't think they're going to hang up until you talk to them. They've already threatened to kill me if I've done anything to hurt you," Logan said, chuckling.

Byers opened one eye, bleary. "The guys."

"Yeah." Logan picked up the phone.

Byers sighed. "Okay, I'll talk to them." Logan gave him the phone and got up to leave. Byers put his free hand on Logan's arm. "No, it's okay. Stay here." He shifted his attention to the phone. "Can't a guy get any sleep around here?" he asked brusquely.

"You really are okay," Langly said, relieved.

Frohike sighed. "You didn't report in, and you didn't send the file you promised. We got worried."

Byers moaned and sat up, leaning against Logan's side as the man ran a hand along his waist and down over his stomach. Logan's other arm slid around him, holding him tight. He repressed a shiver at the slow, sensual caress, hoping his voice wasn't betraying the rising heat within him. "Sorry, I meant to. I had kind of a long day and spaced it."

The two men on the phone laughed. "Yeah Byers, sure. Bet that long day has gnarly pecs or something," Langly said.

Byers rolled his eyes. "Did I harass you about that woman you brought home last month, Langly? The half-deaf bass player who kept everyone up all night yelling because she couldn't hear herself talk?" Langly yelped an embarrassed objection. "Cut me some slack," John continued. He could just picture Frohike shaking his head and swatting at Langly as he heard them snipe and scuffle on the other end of the line. "Are you two done now? Can I go back to sleep?" He yawned and his weary voice betrayed a mixture of amusement and annoyance.

Logan whispered "I don't want you to go back to sleep just yet" in John's ear. Byers smiled at him, instantly eager with anticipation.

"I'm hanging up now," Byers said to his friends. "I've just had an offer I can't refuse." He clicked the phone off before either of his partners could object, and set it over on the bedside table. "If that indeed was the kind of offer I don't want to refuse," he said, nuzzling Logan's ear.

Logan mmmm'd low in his throat. "It's an offer of anything you want, John." He lifted the covers and slid in next to the warm, drowsy man in his bed, then laid them down gently and proceeded to twine their bodies together. John eagerly wrapped himself around Logan, shivering at the feel of their bodies, their legs and thighs sliding together, stomach to stomach, chest to chest. He ran his hands slowly and tenderly over Logan's body as they kissed deeply.

"I want you," John said, his voice deep now, husky with his arousal.

Logan's heart skipped a beat at Byers' admission. 'This is really happening,' he thought, 'he really does want this.' "Tell me what you want me to do," he whispered, and suckled at John's earlobe.

"Anything," John moaned, "everything. Just... just touch me." He ran his fingers through Logan's hair, and pulled him into a slow, sensual kiss, carefully rolling them both to position himself on top of his lover. As John began nibbling his way down Logan's neck, Logan ran his hands down John's back and over his ass. Byers sucked tenderly at Logan's throat as the warm hands caressed him, fingers sliding down between his legs to slide gently over his balls and separate his thighs so that he could straddle Logan's hips. John drew a shuddering breath as the caress continued, and Logan pressed his hard cock against John's body. "Oh, yes," he whispered. "God, Logan, you feel fantastic."

The men touched each other slowly and tenderly, continuing to explore each other with hands, lips and tongues. Logan nibbled carefully on John's nipples, licking and sucking them until Byers was nearly in tears. John had almost forgotten what it felt like to make love with anyone. Their hips moved slowly together, their breathing becoming rougher as they quietly moaned and whispered to each other, asking for more, requesting a touch or a caress in a particular place, their mutual desire deepening as they explored one another's sensitive spots. John shifted his weight as he lay atop Logan, and he reached between them, slowly and gently stroking Logan's cock. Logan cried out and arched his back, pushing himself into John's hand as it moved. "Slow," Logan gasped, "go slow. This is so good, John, you're so good. I want you so much."

Byers slowed his pace, then moved his hand so that he could hold Logan's cock and his own as he moved. He caressed them both carefully, moaning as their bodies strained against each other. "I hope you have condoms," John said, leaning into Logan and biting the tendon on the side of his neck gently. Logan whimpered, but managed to nod and make a somewhat affirmative noise.

Through another whimper, Logan managed to say, "Bedside drawer..." Byers moved again, lying fully atop Logan, straddling his hips as he reached into the drawer and felt around until he found a condom and a tube of lube. He sat up, to Logan's protests, and applied the lubricant to both of them, then rolled the condom down Logan's hard, flushed cock. "Ooooh, yeah," Logan muttered. He took John's cock in hand and started to squeeze, moving his hand very slowly up and down.

Byers moaned a deep, throaty "ohhhhhh." He shifted himself up until he was near Logan's waist instead of over his hips, and Logan slid his fingers slowly over John's balls, very gently pulling and twisting them, then began exploring his tight ass. "Please, more," John whispered, barely in control of his voice. Logan slid a careful finger inside, moving gently and slowly, knowing that John hadn't been with anyone in a long time. Byers wrapped himself around Logan as the man carefully slid first one finger, then two, in and out of his body, playing with his balls and caressing his cock as he did so. He shuddered with the intensity of the sensation, relaxing as best he could to receive the stretching and the deeper thrusts of Logan's fingers, as his other hand caressed John's ass.

Logan kissed John as he teased him, and John's response was intense and passionate. A timeless forever later, John was begging Logan for his cock, sweating, moving his body against him in blind desire. "Are you sure you're ready?" Logan gasped. "Do you want me inside you?" John's only answer was a whimper and, as Logan gently removed his fingers, John slid his body down until the head of Logan's cock pressed against him hard.

"Oh God Logan, yes..." John pleaded. Logan guided himself into John's body, slowly at first, but deep, with a strong, confident movement. John wailed as Logan entered him, and Logan gasped at the immense pleasure of being inside the beautiful man on top of him. The two thrust into and against each other, slow and tender as John moaned, biting Logan's shoulder as his pleasure unmoored him. Logan's thrusts filled him, and John felt waves of long-repressed desire rise in him uncontrollably. He made quiet noises deep in his throat, rumbling, almost growling as Logan slid into him, deeper with each long, slow stroke. "Harder," Byers begged, "please..." He pressed himself eagerly into Logan's thrusts, moving faster, riding the man under him with a fierce, devastating need.

They kissed again as Logan thrust into John, giving him what he so desperately wanted, even though they could barely breathe. They gasped together as their bodies moved, Logan's hands on John's hips, pressing him down into his own, pushing himself into John's body as deep as his own would allow. John sat carefully, moving fluidly with the rhythm of Logan's thrusts, and leaned back so that Logan could penetrate him even more deeply as his speed increased. Logan took John's now exposed cock in his hand. John gasped and panted as Logan held him tightly and began to pump his cock fast and hard. He was groaning at the increased sensation, and then Logan's other hand began pinching and twisting at his nipples as both of them gasped and moaned. The sudden rough touch sent an almost electric charge through John's body, and with a shout and a shudder, he came hard. He cried out again and again as the hard thrusting continued, unable to contain his body's ecstatic burst.

"John... God, oh God..." Logan thrust wildly as he came, his body spasming with the force of his orgasm. John, his head spinning, let Logan thrust violently into him until the shuddering movements stopped, then leaned forward carefully, bracing himself with his arms until he lay body to body with Logan. They held each other, still joined and trembling hard, unable to speak, panting for breath.

***  
MAY 17, 2003

Byers woke with a start, and stiffened for a moment, disoriented by the unfamiliar surroundings and the... arms around him? When he realized where he was, he relaxed, and snuggled deeper into Logan's arms, pressing his back against the other man's body to soak up his sleeping warmth and revel in the feeling of belonging he was experiencing. It was an all too rare occurrence in his life. Breathing out a contented sigh, he ran a hand slowly and tenderly down the Logan's thigh, from hip to knee. It felt so good to be wanted, to wake in another's embrace. John looked up at the clock. It was a little after 5 am in Seattle, but his body was telling him he should have been up an hour ago. He had really needed the sleep, though, and he smiled remembering the intense, delicious pleasure of the previous night.

Rolling carefully, so as not to disturb his lover, he held Logan briefly, then kissed him before getting out of bed. Logan stirred at the movement and the caress of John's hands along his body, his lips on his cheek, but settled again immediately. John had to get showered and dressed, then check in with his partners in crime so they wouldn't worry. He hadn't been thrilled by the late night call from them, but did understand their concern. Besides, he had been amply rewarded for waking up, and then slept better than he had in years. Breakfast was also necessary. He hadn't eaten much yesterday, and his stomach was already beginning to growl, rather like an unruly badger.

After his morning routine, and his brief conversation with Mel and Ringo, John rummaged in the refrigerator. He was startled by a quiet voice and nearly banged his head as he removed it from the appliance. "You and Logan sleep okay last night?" Bling asked.

John blushed. "Uh... um... yeah, thank you. We did."

Bling nodded. "You just treat him right, " he said.

Byers just looked at the tall black man for a few moments, his hand on the refrigerator door. Regaining his composure, he closed the fridge and spoke. "I will." Taking the eggs to the stove, he set them down in a little bowl. "Believe me, I don't make a practice of hurting people, particularly not people I get involved with."

A tiny smile touched Bling's lips, reflected in his deep brown eyes. "Didn't think so, but it doesn't hurt to remind people."

"He's not just an employer to you, is he?" John asked.

"No, not for a long time," Bling said. "We've been friends for years now. Don't like to see my friends get hurt. Don't have very many." John nodded.

"I understand that completely," he said, turning his attention to the eggs. "Would you like me to make you some breakfast?"

"Sure, I'd appreciate it." Bling sat at the table, just watching. Byers quietly went about making breakfast, stirring together omelets, preparing coffee, and making toast. He was slightly uneasy at Bling's silence, but gradually relaxed into it. The man's presence was massive, but very calm and centered. He had the sense that Bling could easily rip his arms out of their sockets if he wanted to -- John was a much smaller man -- but that this strength was under perfect control, used only when called for, and then only for precise purposes.

As John carried two plates to the table, Logan wheeled into the room. "Oh, Logan -- if you want, you can have mine. I'll just make a new one."

"Are you sure?" Logan asked. "I'm perfectly capable of making my own, you know."

"I know," John said, "but I'd like to do this for you." Logan smiled as John set one plate down in front of Bling, then the other at another seat. When Byers' hands were empty, Logan extended his arms to him. John smiled back, and crouched down to accept the embrace with one of his own. With a kiss on Logan's cheek, he whispered, "Thank you for last night. You were incredible."

"There's more if you want it," Logan replied quietly. "You were pretty damn incredible yourself, John." Byers sighed, and they kissed softly, the tips of their tongues caressing each other. He went back to omelet making and toast.

"I'll be here for another few days," John said, "looking for more information about the Project. I'm glad I'll be able to spend the time with you."

Logan watched him work. "We're going to have to talk about that, John. Max came by last night, and she doesn't want you to do the exposé." Byers looked over at him from the stove, puzzled.

"Why not? I'd think she would be eager to end the harassment, all the running, and the fear."

Logan shook his head. "They don't think the exposé would make any difference. She says they think it may even make things worse for them. But she can tell you about it herself when she gets here later today. We'll have ample time to discuss it then. I'd rather talk about things other than business right now." He took his place at the table and picked up his fork. "Like how good this smells."

John laughed. "Yeah, I just hope it tastes okay."

"It's fine," Bling said.

"Do you have hot sauce?" John asked. "I like it on my eggs."

"Lower right, second shelf in the fridge," Logan said, pointing.

"There's one thing I'm curious about," he continued, almost done cooking.

Logan sipped his coffee. "Only one?"

"Well, one in particular," John said. "How did you guys find me so fast? I was sure you hadn't located me when I tried to crack the system yesterday." He slid his omelet onto a plate.

Logan chuckled. "I didn't. You covered very well. When I found out it was you, I would have been deeply disappointed if I'd managed to catch you. You and your friends are legends, you know."

Byers snorted. "We're only legends in Langly's mind, Logan. But you still haven't said how you found me."

"We have a mutual contact," Logan said.

John looked up, shocked. "Kerry?" The thought that she would betray him was terrifying, and his heart skipped a few beats. While he'd been living close to Mulder's 'trust no one' philosophy for many years, Kerry had never once steered him or the other guys wrong, and he had genuinely begun to trust her. His stomach knotted, and his entire body tensed, knuckles white as he gripped his plate, nearly spilling his breakfast.

"It's not what you think," Logan said, noting John's wide-eyed distress. "She's extremely discreet, and I've never seen her turn on anyone she's taken into her confidence, not even when it would save her a lot of grief. She's a very honorable, caring woman. She knows I've been an admirer of your work for a long time, and she knew I'd never hurt you, or let anyone else do so. It was the best thing she could possibly have done, really. If you'd been out asking around for a few more hours, Lydecker would most likely have gotten to you first. You might be dead by now. Kerry was protecting you, John, and keeping her own ass covered in the process. She's a professional. Besides, we're likely to be the best source of information you could find on the subject."

Byers let the thought slip into the hard knots his muscles had suddenly developed. He could forgive her, he decided. Kerry had, after all, been indirectly responsible for the best night he'd had in a very long time. He should probably thank her before he left town. Hell, flowers might even be appropriate. John sat down with his plate. "Okay. I did ask. And you're right, she did do the right thing. Still, she could have just had us get in contact, rather than letting Max whack me in the head." He touched the fading bruise at his temple. "I meant what I said about buying you lunch," he said with a rueful smile.

"We did have to identify you," Logan said. "Max had no idea who you were, and Kerry didn't mention any names. She just described you and said you'd been asking after the Project. Said you were one of the good guys." He grinned. "I'll have to tell her she was right about that."

Byers blushed. "You... really, Logan, you don't have to do that." A buzzer sounded, and Bling rose and left the room. John looked over at Logan. "Are you expecting anyone?"

"Not at the moment, but then again, with Max you never know." A few moments later, the young woman herself appeared. "You're here early," Logan said.

"Had a delivery in the neighborhood, thought I'd stop by for coffee and donuts. Carbo-loading, you know." Max grinned. She looked at John. "You up to date yet?"

He looked up at her. "Logan said you'd fill me in on the details, but essentially, yes. I can't say I quite understand your reasoning."

Max pulled a chair under her and sat with her legs astraddle the back, crossing her arms on the back and leaning her chin on them. "Okay. Here's the deal."

***

MAY 20, 2003

Byers and Logan waited at the gate for the flight to announce boarding. They held hands, and John was down on one knee on the carpet, leaning on the arm of Logan's chair, so that they could talk more easily without being overheard. "So," Logan asked quietly, "will I see you again, John?"

John looked into Logan's eyes and smiled gently. "Absolutely. I don't know when, and it probably won't be often, but yes, we will most definitely be together again." He leaned in and kissed Logan softly. "And remember, if you can make your way out to Maryland, you're more than welcome to come and stay with me. It's not like anything you're used to, but for me, it's home."

Logan ran a hand through John's hair, ruffling it from its disciplined place. "I'll do that," he said. "I wish you didn't have to leave."

"So do I," John whispered, "so do I. But I can't stay any longer. The guys would have my head. We're on a deadline, and without the story I came for, we've got to scramble to put together another one."

"I'm sorry about the way it turned out," Logan said.

Byers shook his head. "I'm not. We wanted to do this story because we wanted to do the right thing, and because we wanted to help Yves. We may not be able to tell the story, but I do think we've found a way to help, at the very least." The call for boarding sounded, and Byers looked up with a resigned sigh. "I have to go now."

Logan nodded. "Come back soon."

"As soon as I can," John said. "Logan..."

Logan looked up, locking eyes with John. "Yeah?"

"I... " John's voice dropped into a whisper again and he lowered his eyes shyly. "I love you." Logan reached out and drew John to him, holding him close.

"I love you too, John." They held each other tightly as the crowd shuffled along in line around them, slowly filling the plane. "Contact me soon."

"As soon as I get home," Byers promised. "I really do have to go." Logan slowly, reluctantly released him, watching him as he walked away.

***

TAKOMA PARK, MARYLAND  
MAY 21, 2003

"So, Byers, why did you want to see me?" Yves looked the bearded man up and down. He looked rather happier than she'd seen him before.

"I know who you really are, Petra." Her eyes went wide for a moment, and she grabbed Byers by his tie and jerked him toward her until they were nose to nose.

"Is this supposed to be a threat?" she snarled. His hands were on her shoulders as he tried to regain his balance.

"No, no! Nothing of the sort. I just... I found some information that I know you'll want." She let him back away slightly, but maintained a firm grip on his tie. She'd kill him if he threatened her with the ultimate betrayal, revealing her true identity.

Yves narrowed her eyes. "Talk fast. I'm not feeling particularly patient at the moment."

Byers shuffled in his breast pocket and pulled out a card. There was a number on it, nothing else. "Max asked me to give you this."

Yves dropped Byers' tie. "Max?" she asked, incredulous. Cautiously, she reached for the card. Byers nodded, silent. Yves took the card, looked at it for a moment, then, with a broad smile, she hugged him tightly and kissed him hard. "Thank you, John. Sometimes you manage to surprise even me." She laughed with delight.

Before he could say anything else, Yves vanished into the night.

~fin~


End file.
